Johan Vibe (1748-1782): 'En sang'

Johan Vibe (far right) and Johan Herman Wessel (far left) toast

                  each other at the Norwegian Society

  

 

En Sang

 

Den, Skaberen skiænkte en oplyst Forstand,

Han elsker og drikker, imedens han kan;

Thi naar man først Foden hos Charon har sat,

Saa siges al Elskov og Viinen god Nat.

 

Lad Viin da og Elskov opvarme dit Bryst;

Snart røver dig Døden al sværmende Lyst.

Og blev du end gammel, saa bliver du dog,

Hvad endnu er værre, saa bliver du klog.

 

Lyksalighed, Maalet for Jordiskes Fliid,

Lær den ej af Viise, du spilder din Tid;

Kun Saften af pressede Druer, min Ven!

Og Pigernes Kysse kan give dig den.

 

Hos Viinen og Elskov boer Lærdom og Vid,

Jeg kiender ej Stierner, jeg veed dog min Tid,

Ty naar jeg ej Piger og Viinen har kiær,

Saa veed jeg tilvisse, min Ende er nær.

 

I strænge Theologi! hindrer mig ej

At vandre bekrandset den lystige Vey,

Jeg frygter kun lidet at blive fortabt

Af den, som har Piger og Vindruer skabt.

 

Al Skabningens Herre er naadig og god,

Til Trøst for de skabte hans Viisdom tillod

I Druen at finde en Lindring mod Harm

Og Forsmag paa Himlen i Pigernes Arm.

 

Mit høyeste Gode skal ønskes min Ven:

At drikke og elske og elskes igien;

Naar Døden da Ende paa Vellyster giør,

Saa har du dog levet, forinden du døer.

 

 

A Song

 

He whom the Creator did bless with good sense,

Should love and should drink well before it all ends;

For once one in Charon’s bark has set one’s foot,

All passion and wine’s out the window for good.

 

Let wine and love’s passion stoke fires in your breast.

Soon death all desires and lusts from it will wrest.

And should you live long, you risk ere your demise

A thing that is worse still, you risk growing wise.

 

A state of bliss, which by all mortals is sought,

Don’t let wise men teach you, your time is too short;

This only the juice of pressed grapes, my dear friend,

And young women’s kisses can ever extend.

 

In wine and love’s passion dwell learning and wit,

I cannot read stars, but know well not to quit,

For when I no more wine and women hold dear,

I’ll know for a certainty my end is near.

 

You strict theologians! Don’t stand in my way

From garland-decked taking the path that is gay;

My fear is but slight He will let hell’s jaws gape,

The One who’s created both woman and grape.

 

The Lord of Creation is gracious and good,

To comfort His creatures them wisely allowed

In grapes to find solace for all that might harm

And foretaste of heaven in women’s fair arms.

 

My greatest boon I wish my friend too may learn:

To drink and to love and be loved in return;

When death puts an end to all joys by and by,

You’ll have at least lived well before you must die.